Phoenix Maplewood half-savage and hardy

The question answered the thought that had wandered through his mind. Bronte imagined that Rannoch had only lived his life in the wilds up until that point. The dark young bear allowed a flicker of a smile to pass along his muzzle before he shrugged his shoulders and narrowed his brows some. “Nice enough; you sleep where you please, hunt in any land that isn’t claimed. It’s got perks, but the same could be said for pack life.” It all depended on who was asked, but Bronte believed that he could see a benefit to both lives. The swarthy young man had known the strength it took to devote a life to the growth and structure of a wolf pack; he knew that it did not always succeed, but when it did, it was outstanding. It was still impressive that Rannoch had founded his own at such a young age.